


Turn the World to Gold

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Message From the Veins (Rare Pair Week) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, References to Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Toward the tail end of their vacation back home on Earth, Lance convinces Shiro to show him a few of his teenage haunts.  Not all of Shiro's ghosts want to haunt him, and Lance learns something about himself in the process.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Xagrok

“So much for the no smoking signs, huh?” Lance mused, glancing around the smoky bar.  Most of it smelled like cigarette smoke, but only most.  He pressed against Shiro’s side, half for the contact, and half to avoid being jostled.  While Lance wouldn’t have called the building packed, it was certainly still popular on a Friday night.  It was made worse by the fact that there was a small cleared space for a dance floor, but that area was nearly empty, other than being crossed while customers found seats.  It was too early in the night for that, apparently.  At 8PM, it was hard to be properly tipsy, much less ‘I’ll be the one to start the dancing’ drunk.

This wasn’t really Lance’s scene, and never had been.  He’d wanted it to be, when he was younger.  In high school, he’d tried every trick in the book to get past the bouncers, to sneak into college parties, to get into any afterparty he could find.

It was the same impulse that had lead him to sneaking out of the Galaxy Garrison, once upon a time, dragging Hunk along with him and stumbling into Pidge up on the roof.  The one that had led him to meeting Shiro in the first place.

Once upon a time, though, it had been Shiro’s.  And it showed.  There was something looser in Shiro’s shoulders than Lance had ever seen, even when he’d caught glimpses of him pre-Kerberos.  This wasn’t Shiro’s Black Paladin stance, designed to look as much like a commanding officer as possible, nor was it the posture of a cadet or young officer, trying to make a good impression.

Shiro leaned forward until Lance could feel the edge of Shiro’s hat (an actual  _ beanie,  _ and the idea still made Lance giddy) pressed against his temple.  “Everyone here is so very anti-establishment, man,” Shiro drawled, expression bland but tone just barely mocking.  “They don’t read signs like sheeple.”

“You were an obnoxious kid, weren’t you?” Lance replied back, openly grinning.

Shiro’s lips pulled up into an easy smile.  “Oh, yes.  When I was seventeen, I was smarter and wiser than everyone else in the world, according to me.  Because I saw through the  _ bullshit, _ apparently.  The panopticon is optional.  You just gotta break the system.”

Snickering, Lance pressed his face into the side of Shiro’s head.  “Oh, God, stop.  I can just see it, too.”

“I knew I was never going to live this down the second I agreed to take you here,” Shiro replied easily, steering them over to an empty booth.  “Hell, the second I agreed to stop in LA for a day.  This whole trip is going to be tourist traps and teasing.”

Lance fluttered his lashes at Shiro, bottom lip stuck out.  “But you got to see my home and meet my family.  It’s only fair.  Besides, the tourist traps are fun.”

For a moment, Shiro’s expression was so deadpan and unimpressed that Lance burst into snickers again.  Yup, that was a teenage expression, alright.  It wasn’t made more dignified for being on the face of someone inching toward 30.

“That’s different.  I liked meeting your family.  But it’s not like I’m bringing you home to anyone.  Hell, we’re at a hotel.”  Shiro shrugged, and he looked for all the world like none of that bothered him.

Maybe it didn’t.  Shiro had spent their three weeks on Earth (minus the two days they’d all been stuck in the Galaxy Garrison to clear up that whole ‘pilot error’ and ‘missing cadets’ business) either crashing with the Holts or going from hotel to hotel with Keith.  Other than a single phone call, Lance was fairly certain Shiro hadn’t been in contact with anyone he was related to.

But that was so  _ foreign _ to Lance.  Alien, in a way nothing in outer space had managed.  How could it not hurt, to be so thoroughly uprooted?  The academy he’d gone to high school at was still here, but Shiro had no interest in going there, the condo he’d spent 7 years in belonged to someone else, and the various studios and classes he’d attended had all either closed down or moved away.

This was the only place Shiro had thought of visiting that still existed.   A bar that he shouldn’t even have been able to get into at 17 that played music all about rejecting the system.

If that didn’t bother Shiro, it was probably a good thing.  But it bothered Lance.  He’d dragged Shiro to his schools, his teenage haunts, the places he’d had his first kiss, where he’d broken his leg, where he’d first learned he’d been accepted into the Galaxy Garrison.  Had him meet almost everyone in Lance’s family, which was no small number and a huge amount of enthusiasm.  Been interviewed and interrogated both of being one of the people who had been in space with Lance for years and for being his boyfriend.

Lance had the vague notion that he wasn’t going to have the same treatment from Shiro’s family.  But now it felt a little like he’d rubbed it all in Shiro’s face.

A press of lips to his temple started Lance out of his thoughts, and Shiro arched his brows in unspoken question.  ‘You okay?’

“Oh, yeah, sorry.  Just distracted.  Maybe getting a second hand high in here, too.”  Lance knocked their shoulders together, throwing on an easy smile.  “Wondering how the hell you ended up being such a good little soldier when this was your teenage influence.”

Shiro snorted, but his eyes crinkled at the edge in amusement.  “It was the fastest point from here to the farthest reaches of the solar system,” he replied easily.  “And then I was good at it, and they told me I was going places, so I did whatever they wanted to keep that impression going.”  One side of his lips curled up.  “I was played by the system, man.”

“All that pretension for nothing, alas.”  Lance leaned up, pressing his lips to Shiro’s while he was still smiling.  “We don’t have to leave till the afternoon tomorrow, right?”

Snorting, Shiro rolled his eyes.  “I’m not getting drunk when we have to drive through the desert.”

“Not drunk.  Just a bit tipsy.  Nothing you won’t sleep off.  We’re on vacation, Shiro.  In a bar.  Are you seriously not going to have anything to drink?”

Shiro’s expression went flat.  “You just like me drunk.”

Lance beamed back, unrepentant.  “You’re very cute.  But I’m not trying to, promise.  Just one or two little drinks.  Enough to get into it.”

Finally, Shiro chuckled.  “Alright, fine.  What do you want?”

Lance opened his mouth, then paused.  “Oh, God.  What’s even available on Earth again?  I’d only ever had snuck beers before.”

“Well, that’s comforting.  I’ll get you something on draft,” Shiro replied.  “If you don’t like it we’ll trade.”

Worked for Lance.  He shot Shiro a thumbs up, and leaned against the table as he walked away.  “I like those jeans.  Makes watching you walk away very enjoyable,” he called over the chatter.

Shiro didn’t reply, but Lance could tell by the way his head tipped back that he was laughing.

While he was gone, Lance leaned back in his seat, glancing around with open curiosity.  He and Shiro certainly weren’t the only ones on dates, here, but he was surprised by the number of people who seemed to be there on their own.  Maybe he shouldn’t be, since it was a music and performance venue just as much as a place to get drinks.  On stage, someone wearing a black t-shirt with the bar’s logo on the back was setting up chairs and mics, meaning that whoever was playing should be starting pretty soon (or, so Lance assumed).

Lance could certainly understand what the appeal had been to a teenager.  But the real surprise was that there were no others around.  Sure, they’d checked their IDs at the door (and thankfully the hastily printed military IDs at the Galaxy Garrison had passed muster), but Shiro had apparently spent a significant portion of his later teenage years here.  Even with a fake ID, could a high school age Shiro have really fooled the staff that constantly?

Lance rested his chin on his palm, glancing back over at Shiro.  He’d finally made it to the bartender, the Galra hand tucked into his jacket pocket.  Before, his stance had been casual, but now it was stiff and frozen.  At this angle, Lance could only see a small part of Shiro’s face, but the thin press of his lips and too-straight posture set off alarm bells.

The things that threw Shiro off were rarely good.

Sparing a quick hope that they would be able to get another table later, Lance hopped up and made a beeline for the bar, siding up next to Shiro until their arms were pressed together.  The contact earned him a startled look, probably because Shiro hadn’t been able to hear him coming over the noise, and Lance shot him a quick apology smile.  Whoops.  “I got bored,” Lance announced, flip as he could manage.  “Anything fun happening here?”

“Oh, you were with someone?  Sorry, man, didn’t mean to keep you.”  The bartender - one of the bartenders?  There were two, huh - shrugged and rested his elbows on the counter.  White ink tattoos weaved their way up his dark, bare arms to the same t-shirt as the rest of the employees, and he had the first signs of laugh lines and crow’s feet on his face, barely visible in the dark lighting.  “Mighta been mistaken, too.  Or maybe you look like someone on TV, yeah?”

Ah, hell.  They might have been recognized.  Or, at least Shiro might have.  Much as Lance though his own handsome face was plenty distinct, it wasn’t the same thing as Shiro’s more unique features.  Frankly, Lance was surprised more people hadn’t noticed them, after three weeks of near constant news reports on the fact that the Kerberos crew was back and also that goddamn aliens were  _ real. _

But Shiro just shook his head, slowly relaxing, though Lance wasn’t sure if it was from having back-up or if he’d just been startled.  “Maybe not.  I used to come here a lot about a decade ago.”  Then something in Shiro’s face  _ softened, _ and his grin got almost shy.  “Around when you used to perform here.”

Wait, what?

Okay, Lance could see the aging musician thing, sure.  That made sense, especially in a place like this.  But that didn’t explain Shiro’s expression.  Nostalgia?

Perking, the bartender beamed.  “Damn, really?  Aww, that’s awesome.  You were here back in the  _ day. _  Actually, wait, take the hat off, will ya?”  When Shiro obediently tugged off the beanie, the guy narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. Then it seemed to hit.  “Blackbird!”

To Lance’s mixed awe and confusion, Shiro went bright red.

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed.  “That’s me.  Unless there was more than one.”

The bartender grinned.  “Goddamn, man, you grew.”  Then he seemed to spot Lance again, and offered a dryer smile.  “Don’t you worry, dude, it was ages ago, and one time.”

One time what?

Wait.

Oh.   _ Oh. _

Eyes widening, Lance stared at Shiro in dawning comprehension.

Shiro had slept with this guy?

Blushing hard enough to make his ears to bright red, Shiro inclined his head.

Well then.

Lance leaned closer to Shiro, wrapping their arms together, but it was a hollow move.  He felt like he should be upset, like he should be jealous, but it wasn’t hitting.  Instead Lance was just a little off balance.  Maybe amused at Shiro’s unusually open actions.

“Here, lemme get your drinks,” the bartender said finally, looking between them with open amusement.  “Before I do more damage.”  He flashed another of those bright grins.  “On the house.”

Straightening, Shiro shook his head.  “No need for that.  I don’t want you to get in trouble-”

But the bartender snorted, loudly enough that Shiro cut off.  “With who?  The only person I answer to is me, these days.  When Jo retired, she left me in charge.”

Shiro blinked, absorbing that.  “Ah.  Well, uh, thank you.”

“No problem.  You need anything, tell the staff it’s on Ted, alright?”  The bartender - Ted, apparently - waved them off.  “Go get a seat, I’ll have ‘em bring it to you.”

“Thank you.  It was nice seeing you again,” Shiro replied, gaze that same soft, warm look.  When he just got a thumbs up in return, Shiro turned away, Lance still attached to his side.  Glancing down at him, Shiro raised his brows blandly.  “Well.  That wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No kidding,” Lance replied.  “Blackbird, huh?”

Shiro shrugged.  “The Beatles song, you know?  I had a thing for ancient music, once.  And he sang it after-” he cut himself off suddenly.  “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t talk about that, huh?”

Brow furrowed, Lance sat down at a different table, since their booth had been snagged while they were at the bar.  “Probably not?  I dunno.  It-”

It still didn’t bother Lance.

Why not?

Then another thought hit, and Lance’s brows furrowed.  “Weren’t you seventeen when you came here?”

“Sixteen for some, but mostly then.”  Shiro smirked, the curve of it just slightly smug.  “But Ted didn’t know that.”

Staring at him, Lance leaned back in his chair.  “How old was he?”

“Twenty.”

Leaning back in his chair, Lance barked out a laugh.  “You were jailbait?”

“Please.  It was barely three years difference.”  Shiro snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back.  But there was still a hint of a smile to his face.  “Besides, I lost my virginity to the guy whose albums and t-shirts I had.”

Grabbing him by the shirt, Lance tugged Shiro in for a slow, heated kiss.  “Well, I kept the guy who I had posters of.  So there.”

“Alright, you’ve got me there.” Shiro murmured, barely an inch from Lance’s lips.

“Yeah, I do.”  

Shiro laughed and leaned in for another kiss.

They were interrupted by the arrival of their drinks, and Lance turned the bottle over in his hands.  “I thought you were gunna get me something on draft?”

Shiro shrugged.  “If I was gunna get into a conversation, I didn’t want there to be an open drink the whole time.  Sorry, next order, if you want.”

Fair enough.  Lance took a sip, then paused.  “You know, once upon a time beer felt so strong.”

“Well, now you’ve had drinks that have aged longer than there’s been human civilization,” Shrio pointed out dryly.

Taking another sip, Lance offered it to Shiro for a trade.  His wasn’t really any better, and Lance thought about maybe getting a fruity drink if they had another, mostly because he loved the names and taste.  Plus it meant he could have a Sex on the Beach while meeting Shiro’s eyes dead on, which sounded like fun.

Moving their chairs closer, Shiro wrapped his metal arm around Lance’s waist, carefully tucking the exposed hand into the pocket of Lance’s jacket.  “Seriously, you’re not bothered?”

“Honestly?  No.”  Lance glanced up at him, giving a helpless shrug.  Shouldn’t he be? Shiro was his boyfriend, and now they’d met the guy who took his v-card, and who had made Shiro give that shy, soft smile.  “I thought I’d be, but...”

Pressing a kiss to his temple, Shiro smiled.  “Good.  You have no reason to be.  Seems like you know it.”  He shrugged, watching as a young looking musician climbed onto the stage, a guitar strung across their back.  “Between the two of you, there’s a guy who was in a band I liked a decade ago, and then there’s a defender of the universe, who also happens to be one of the sweetest, cleverest and most loyal guys I know.  So.  No offense to Ted.  I’m glad he’s doing well for himself.  But he isn’t exactly fierce competition.”

Relaxing against his boyfriend’s warm side, Lance nodded slowly.  

He wasn’t jealous because there wasn’t a reason to be.  Lance trusted Shiro, trusted their relationship, and trusted that they - that  _ he _ \- was enough to make this stable.

It kind of made Lance want to get into some time travel shenanigans, just to find his younger self and tell him ‘ _ it’s okay.  You don’t need to worry so much, you don’t need to try so hard.  You’re good and you're capable and it’ll all work out when you’re ready.’ _

Then again, a younger Lance wouldn’t have been ready to hear that, either.

“Damn right, I am,” Lance replied back, tone easy and grin bright.

Pulling back enough to look over Lance’s face, Shiro’s expression melted.  And it wasn’t like the nostalgic smile for Ted.  But Lance wasn’t dating the too-smart 17 year old who thought the world wasn’t enough to keep up.  He was dating this Shiro.

And Lance was pretty sure that was a damn good upgrade.

“It doesn’t help that you’re a great kisser,” Shiro continued, pressing on with a ruthless glint in his eyes, and Lance fought against the beginnings of a blush.  “And that you’ve got a such a pretty face.”  He leaned forward, twisting in his chair so he could whisper in Lance’s ear.  “Or that you’ve got such a great ass.  That I love your cock.”

The goddamn  _ tease. _

When he pulled back, Shiro’s eyes were bright, and the tilt of his head was pure mischief.

Okay, maybe Lance was dating that young Shiro, just as a part of the larger whole.

He could work with that.

But first, Shiro needed to be taught a lesson about teasing the  _ master. _

Lance licked his lips, just to get Shiro’s attention there, making his eyes snap down and his lips part in anticipation of a kiss.

Instead, Lance reached up, dragging his fingers against the buzz at the back of Shiro’s neck and into the rest of his hair.  It was just long enough to take hold.  So Lance held on and tugged, barely enough to make Shiro’s head fall back automatically and expose the line of his neck.  Then he leaned forward and attached his mouth to the very base, where Shiro’s fondness for high collars and the paladin armor would cover it.  Licking at the soft flesh, Lance let out a low hot breath, and then he  _ bit. _

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly a tease.  More of an escalation. But it made Shiro gasp and shudder, and that was the real goal.

When Lance pulled back, he licked his lips again, this time in pure satisfaction.  Shiro’s eyes followed the movement, then he swallowed hard.

Lance’s bite must still be throbbing, because the move made Shiro jolt again, eyes glazing.

“One song?” Shiro murmured, his eyes jumping up as the young musician on stage started to play.  Then he considered, actually listening.  “Maybe two.”

It wasn’t the kind of music Lance tended to search out, low and bitter, frustrated with the world and the system.  But it wasn’t bad, and he had something to occupy himself, anyway.  

“Maybe two,” Lance agreed easily, hand fitting easily against the side of Shiro’s waist.  “And then we can finally spend some time in that hotel room.”

Shiro took a deep breath.  “One song.”

“One song it is.”


End file.
